


it doesn't show signs of stoppin'

by colazitron



Series: 2018 December Holiday Fic Countdown [10]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Snowball Fight, season 1 coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: Isak tries to make Jonas' sixteenth birthday as great as he can, even if it's his fault that Jonas is feeling so down in the first place.





	it doesn't show signs of stoppin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I am in no way affiliated with these characters or their creators. I made this all up. I'm sharing it for fun.
> 
>  **A/N:** for Kit who said, and I quote, "torture me" and also "some cute angsty josak". I tried.
> 
> Also fits the evakteket skamenger prompt "snowball fight"

Isak bumps into Jonas' mother rather unexpectedly and literally. She almost literally drops the shopping bags in her hands as their sides collide and he's already apologising profusely before he realises who it is he bumped into.

“Isak!” she says, pleased and surprised.

“Hi,” he says back, hands held out as if to catch anything she might be dropping. “So sorry, I wasn't looking.”

“Oh, it's alright, no harm done,” Jonas' mum smiles and then clocks the shopping bags in his hands. “Are you doing chores for your mum?”

Isak feels himself flush, shrink a little bit under the gentleness in her question.

“Yeah.”

“How is she doing these days? Do you have any Christmas plans?”

Isak shrugs. His mother hasn't left her bed in three days. Not to shower, not to eat. Only to go to the bathroom, which Isak wasn't worried about her not doing until yesterday when it suddenly occurred to him out of nowhere.

“Uh, no. No plans,” he says. If he has to cook, it'll probably be frozen pizza or pasta with sauce from a jar. Maybe he'll get them frozen lasagna. That seems at least vaguely more festive, if he can get it out of the plastic containers and onto plates. He's not sure his mum cares about that right now. “She's okay. Not great.”

Jonas' mum makes a vaguely sympathetic humming noise. Then she sighs.

“Jonas isn't doing so great either since he and Eva split up,” she says, half-conspiratorially, like she thinks Isak might not know that.

Isak feels his mouth run dry and swallows against it, shifting his weight. His fingers run cold and his stomach runs hot.

“Yeah,” he mumbles.

“I know you have a lot… going on,” Jonas' mum says, “but d'you think you'd want to come over tomorrow for a bit? See if you can't take his mind off things?”

Does Isak want to? Yes.

Is it literally the least he could do? Yes.

Does it feel like he deserves it? No.

But Jonas deserves every ounce of comfort that Isak can give him.

He pretends that he's fine. That he's mature and it's a good thing that he and Eva have decided to stay friends, but Isak does know him well enough to see how he stares off into nothing when he thinks no one's watching. He knows that every time he pulls his phone out to “check the time” he's thinking about texting Eva.

“Yeah, of course,” he says.

“Oh, lovely!” Jonas' mum says. “We're going to go for a late lunch at his favourite restaurant, but you could come over in the morning? And you're more than welcome to join us for lunch!”

“Uh, thank you,” Isak says. “I wouldn't want to intrude on family time. And I should… probably be at home for lunch.”

To make sure Mum eats. Or at least has food by her bed.

Jonas' mum smiles at him again.

“Alright. You're a treasure, Isak. I'll see you tomorrow morning, yes?”

Isak nods firmly and swallows another lump in his throat.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Lovely,” Jonas' mum says and squeezes his shoulder before turning the corner to the car park.

Isak watches her walk away for a few seconds and then turns around and starts walking home. The evening air is crisp and cold, and as he walks the first few snowflakes of the day start swirling down towards the pavement like icy little ballerinas. Mum always used to love snow. Now all Isak can think is that tomorrow it'll probably blanket the world and his toes are going to get cold no matter how many wool socks he puts on and how waterproof his winter shoes are supposed to be.

 

Isak got Jonas a CD by one of his new favourite artists, and he triple-checks it's actually in his pocket before he leaves. He checks in on mum and tells her where she's going, but she barely reacts. Isak bites his lip and blinks the tears away from his eyes and then rushes down the stairs and out the door.

He was right.

There is a blanket of snow on the ground and his footsteps crunch along as he makes his way down the street. It's a Tuesday, but there's no school, so there's not many people around. Isak can basically walk over to Jonas' place and he only deviates a little from the quickest path to get them both hot chocolates from a coffee shop.

When he rings the doorbell, it's Thea who answers.

“It's Isak. Can you tell Jonas to come downstairs?”

“Use your phone,” Thea complains, but Isak's pretty sure she's going to do it anyway. Pretty sure.

Only two minutes later, Jonas comes shuffling down the stairs and towards the gate. He's dressed up in a jacket and hat, all bundled up against the cold and Isak grins to himself. He's clearly not planning on going right back upstairs then.

“What are you doing here?” Jonas asks.

“Surprise!” Isak says. “Though I thought maybe your mum would say something.”

“My mum?” Jonas asks and joins Isak outside the gate.

“Yeah, I ran into her at the grocery story yesterday,” Isak says. “Anyway, happy birthday, bro! Sixteen! Finally!”

Jonas flushes a little a grins, letting Isak pull him into a quick, awkward hug, what with the two cups of hot chocolate he's still holding.

“One of those for me?” Jonas asks, eyes twinkling.

“Absolutely not,” Isak says with a grin and holds one of them out to him.

Jonas laughs and takes it, sighing happily after the first sip.

“Wanna walk?” Isak suggests. Jonas nods, so they take off, letting their feet carry them around the well-trodden paths around the neighbourhood. Isak's not really paying attention to where they're going.

“Got any presents yet?” Isak asks eventually after they've been quiet for a little bit.

“Yeah! My parents gave me some stuff for my guitar. A USB mic even so I can record onto my laptop. It's pretty sick.”

“Wow,” Isak says, dutifully impressed. “Are you planning on playing more, then?”

“Well, you know. It's fun. I like doing it. No one bothers me when I play,” Jonas says, a little quietly. Isak feels his heart hammer in his chest and stares sidelong at him.

Jonas catches his gaze and flushes and then gestures vaguely with his free hand.

“And the chicks dig it, man,” he adds. “Can you imagine? If I had recorded, like, a song I wrote or something?”

Isak makes himself laugh.

“Yeah, that'd be something,” he says.

Jonas nods firmly.

“Yeah. And I'm a free agent now! There's a whole sea of fish out there, or whatever.”

He buries his scowl into the next sip of his hot chocolate, and takes a left into a small park.

“You don't have to pretend you're fine with me,” Isak says quietly. “I know you're hurt.”

Jonas sighs frustratedly and shrugs a harsh shrug.

“Yeah, well. If I don't pretend I'm just going to be sad and angry all the time, and I don't want that. Definitely not on my birthday.”

“Okay,” Isak says quietly.

“She texted me this morning you know. To say Happy Birthday and wish me a good year.”

Isak bites his lip. He's not surprised. Eva's a great girl. She would definitely try and make sure to stay connected since they decided to stay friends.

He hums in vague commiseration.

“Fuck, I don't want to think about her,” Jonas groans, wiping at his face furiously like he might have started to tear up.

The chocolate tastes like nothing on Isak's tongue as he takes a too-large gulp, burning his throat a little.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks.

Jonas sighs and looks out at the empty park.

“Snowman,” he decides. “We're gonna build a snowman.”

So they drain their hot chocolate cups, dump them in the nearest garbage bin, and build a snowman.

Or at least they start to build a snowman. By the time they're rolling the third and final ball for the head, they've rolled the other two over each other's feet so many times that it's devolving into a giggly competition of who can get the other's shoes wetter – until Jonas picks up a handful of snow and lobs it at Isak's face.

He misses, but he gets Isak square in the chest, and Isak straightens up, outrage painted all over his face.

“Betrayal!” he shouts, toes and belly coiling tight.

Jonas laughs loudly.

“Not my fault you didn't see it coming!” he says, which is a rule that only applies to snowball fights, but if it's a snowball fight he wants, then a snowball fight he shall have.

Isak leans down, very deliberately scooping up his own handful of snow and meticulously shaping it into a ball. Jonas backs away and Isak makes sure to keep up, advancing on him step by step, eyes locked on Jonas the entire time.

He's shaking his head half in plea, half in warning, but he's grinning too. His hair spills out from under his beanie and his cheeks are red. His eyes glitter with mirth that Isak hasn't seen in almost two weeks.

He's so pretty.

Isak hates himself so much.

He throws the snowball.

Jonas tries to dance out of the way, but Isak has better aim than him and gets him right on his beanie anyway, snow sticking to the wool even as the ball splatters and breaks apart.

“Ha!” he yells, while Jonas laughs and brushes the snow away.

“Oh, now it's on,” Jonas promises, and Isak ducks with a grin to quickly form a second snowball before Jonas can realise that he's already holding him to that promise.

But this time Jonas is quick too, and what he lacks in aim, he makes up for in volume, pelting Isak with half formed snowballs that quickly turn his entire jacket and beanie hat speckled with white.

Somehow, Jonas manages to back Isak against the patch of the park they made the snowman in, where are the snow from the ground is used up in the larger balls they rolled earlier. So as soon as Isak ducks down and is met with wet grass and leaves, he turns on his heels and sprints away, trying to reach snow again.

“Coward!” Jonas calls after him, but he's laughing as well, especially once Isak slips on the wet grass as soon as he gets within reach of a snow-covered patch again, falling flat on his face.

He lands half in the snow, half on the grassy patch, face pressed down into the snow. He splutters as he gets back up onto his knees, face wet and the snow biting into his skin with the cold.

Behind him, Jonas cackles.

Isak doesn't take time to turn to see how close he already is, just gathers a frantic fistful of snow and whirls around, but it's too late. When he's turned back around, Jonas is already on top of him, dropping down onto his knees and pressing one hand to Isak's shoulder so he can shove the handful of snow in his other hand right in his face even as Isak blindly and weakly lobs his own handful of snow at him.

Isak splutters a bit more, reaching up to get the snow off his face, forgetting that he should probably push Jonas away so he doesn't do it again.

Jonas grins at him for a split second when Isak blinks clumpy wet lashes back open before he rubs another handful of snow in his face.

“Stop!” Isak yells, turning his face away and wiping the snow off. “Jonas, fuck, I've got your present in my pocket!”

“So stop squirming!” Jonas crows and reaches for the neckline of Isak's jumper, ready to stuff a handful of snow down the front of it.

Isak sees it happen in slow motion, the grin on Jonas' face, the wet snow in his hand. Isak shivers all over his body because he's cold, but also because Jonas is kneeling over him, grinning like he's _happy_.

A part of him wants to yell at him.

Wants to yell _I'm in love with you! If you're enough for me, why can't I be enough for you?!_ and at the same time confess to what he did. That he betrayed Eva. That he's the reason Jonas is sad. That in betraying Eva he betrayed Jonas too.

That this twisting, scary, exciting feeling in his belly can't be love, because what Isak did was so utterly selfish. Sure, he told himself he was just protecting Jonas from someone who clearly couldn't appreciate being with him properly, but that wasn't true. If anyone's had a front row seat to what being with Jonas did to Eva, to how much she sacrificed for him, it was him. Jonas could never see it, too blinded by how much he loved being with Eva, but Isak saw every mean stare, saw every time her former friends turned away from her, every time Eva lowered her head and got a little quieter.

He should have said something to Jonas. He should have been a better friend to Eva.

He should have, he should have, he should have.

But he didn't.

He can stop squirming though, so he does. He goes limp, lets his eyes fall shut so he doesn't have to watch it happen, only snapping them back open when the shock of cold on his chest – fuck, Jonas got under his shirt too – makes him yelp loudly.

Jonas cackles again, but he lets Isak roll away and hop up on his feet, frantically trying to get the snow out from underneath his clothes.

“Fuck you,” he yells as Jonas continues laughing, and frantically wipes at his face too when he can suddenly feel the hot stinging in his eyes, the way his throat closes up.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jonas asks suddenly, always so careful. Eyes wide and worried.

Isak makes a confused noise.

“What? Yeah, of course. Just the snow, bro,” he says. “That shit is cold as fuck, and it got all over my face too.”

Jonas laughs again, in relief and mirth, and then he pats Isak on the shoulder.

“Let's go back to mine? Warm back up?”

Isak nods and then fishes the now slightly worse-for-wear present out of his pocket.

“Here you go, by the way.”

Jonas takes it with a grateful smile and tears through the wrapping paper, dropping it into the same garbage bin as their hot chocolate cups earlier and then turns the CD over to look at the cover.

“N.W.A?! No way, man. Thanks!” Jonas crows and pulls Isak into a sideways hug, slapping his back heartily a couple times.

Isak smiles down at the pavement.

“Anytime, bro.”

 

**The End**


End file.
